


Shenanigans

by seraphina_snape



Category: Leverage
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Prank Wars, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5390045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphina_snape/pseuds/seraphina_snape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>shenanigans</b><br/><span class="small">/ʃɪˈnanɪɡ(ə)nz/</span><br/>noun <i>informal</i><br/></p><ul>secret or dishonest activity or manoeuvring.</ul><ul>silly or high-spirited behaviour; mischief.</ul>
            </blockquote>





	Shenanigans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [honorat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/honorat/gifts).



> To honorat: I hope I did your prompt justice and that you like this story. Enjoy! 
> 
> This story is set in season five at some point between The Broken Wing Job and show finale. There are small hints of a Parker/Hardison relationship (such as a brief mention that Parker sometimes sleeps over at Hardison's), but this is a gen story.
> 
> Many, many thanks to Fleurlb who acted as beta for this piece - and did it incredibly fast! ♥ Thank you! 
> 
> [This](https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/19q4sz/what_is_the_best_harmless_prank_to_play_in_a/) provided me with inspiration for most of these pranks in this story.

It was Hardison's fault. 

Everyone agreed. 

Except Hardison, but then again, he _would_ , wouldn't he? Nobody wants to claim responsibility for a prank war even if it's definitely their fault. Which it was, since Hardison did start it – by accident, or so he claimed – but he definitely started it. 

So yeah, it was all Hardison's fault.

 

**Day 0**

Eliot shook his head at Hardison. "What are you, twelve?" 

Hardison laughed and shut off the tap, carefully twisting the tank of his newest toy in place. "Whatever, man. You know you want a go with this baby."

"I really don't," Eliot said, crossing his arms. 

"This is the Soak Master 5000, Eliot," Hardison said, running a hand over the neon green plastic casing. "Half a gallon tank, with a quarter gallon in reserve," he praised, tapping the bright orange reserve tank. "You can adjust the output by opening or closing the nozzle…"

Eliot tuned him out as Hardison went on about the various 'awesome' features. He wasn't sure what was annoying him more: the offensive colors of the toy or that Hardison was obviously gearing up for some target practice. _Inside._

"This is really good workmanship, too. Sure, it's plastic, but not the kind that falls apart when you look at it too hard," Hardison said. He pointed the nozzle away from them and took on an action hero pose. "The only thing that's a bit sketchy is the trigg--"

Two things happened at once: Parker walked through the door, her arms full of climbing gear, and Hardison's toy showed off its sketchy trigger by spraying Parker with a large burst of ice-cold water. 

For a shocked second, silence reigned. 

Parker, soaked and shivering, glared daggers at them. 

Eliot took a step back, hands raised. "Oh no, this got nothin' to do with me. It's all Hardison." 

"What? No! It was an accident, babe, an _accident_!" Hardison said, shifting the Soak Master 5000 from one hand to the other before carefully setting it down on the kitchen counter. 

"An accident?" Parker dumped her gear, arms at her hips. "This is a lot of water for an accident," she said, pulling on her wet t-shirt. 

"But it was," Hardison protested. "I-it has a sketchy trigger, babe, I swear. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you. Honest!" 

Parker snarled and stripped off the t-shirt, leaving her in an also soaked tank top. Her face and hair had been saved from the water, but pulling off the wet shirt had caused some of the hair in Parker's ponytail to fly loose, giving her a bit of a mad scientist look – especially with the scowl she was still sporting.

Eliot snorted and picked his book back up. Soon he'd have to start chopping vegetables for the team dinner later, and he really wanted to finish the rest of this chapter without interruptions. 

Hardison struggled to maintain his somber and apologetic expression, but lost the fight when Parker tossed her shirt onto the table and hit the Soak Master 5000, triggering another burst of water that hit her square in the back as she was turning away. 

Hardison's snickers were drowned out by Parker's outraged yells, and she vowed revenge before storming out of the room. 

"Hey, Eliot," Hardison said once he'd calmed down. "You don't think she'll, uh, do anything, do you? I mean, it was an accident. She knows that, right?"

Eliot scowled at being interrupted again. He marked his place with his thumb and looked up at Hardison, one eyebrow raised. 

"It was an accident." Hardison swallowed. "I said I was sorry!" 

"She'll put frogs in your bed or something." Eliot shrugged. "Shouldn't have laughed."

"She looked funny! And it was an _accident_." 

"You just keep telling yourself that." Eliot opened his book again. "And clean up all that water!"

#

Dinner was quiet that day. Parker appeared in a dry shirt and behaved absolutely normally – that was to say she broke in through the alarmed fire exit, picked all of the mushrooms out of her food and arranged them in a neat line around the edge of her plate, and then insisted they all stay and watch a movie together. The team had already worked their way through fifty years of heist films and everyone but Parker was thoroughly sick of it, but none of them had the heart to suggest something else.

Hardison kept shooting glances at Parker, clearly waiting for some kind of payback for the Soak Master 5000 incident. Nothing happened at dinner or during the movie, so he relaxed a bit more every time Parker moved or spoke without something terrible happening. 

Nate noticed the looks but pretended he didn't; Sophie noticed and asked Eliot. After he explained, Sophie agreed with him that Parker was definitely up to something. 

Eventually, Nate called it a night, and everyone gathered their stuff. Hardison sent Eliot a superior look. "See," he said. "Told you it was cool. My girl isn't one to hold a grudge." 

Eliot just shook his head and left. Parker was definitely one to hold a grudge. With that in his mind, it didn't surprise Eliot much to find Parker perched on his stoop when he got home. He was a little surprised she hadn't just picked his lock, but he put it down to her growing repertoire of social skills. If you we're gonna ask someone a favor, it was better not to piss them off first. 

"I need help," Parker said, following him inside the house and into the kitchen. "I want to get _revenge_ , but nothing I can come up with is good enough."

Eliot grabbed a beer and made an inquiring noise. 

Parker shrugged. "I don't want to cripple him permanently, and we need his computers and stuff for our work. I don't want anyone else caught in the trap and I want it to hit where it hurts." 

Eliot nodded and brought his beer up to his lips. After a long pull on the bottle, he turned to face Parker. "Okay, here's what you're gonna do…"

 

**Day 3**

When they weren't on a case, Nate and Sophie tended to be off doing their own things. Eliot split his time between the Brew Pub and getting some R&R on his own while Parker did the same. Hardison was usually found at the Brew Pub no matter what, so Eliot made sure to hang around a little more over the next few days. Parker's eyes had taken on an unholy glow when he detailed his idea and he had no doubt that she'd run with it. The question was when she was going to hit Hardison. He didn't want to ask, but he also didn't want to miss it. Hanging out at the Brew Pub was the best compromise. 

Nate didn't seem to notice or care, but Eliot caught him giving the salt and pepper shakers a suspicious look before using either, so Eliot knew he'd noticed something was up. 

Hardison, on the other hand, was completely oblivious. He went about his business like Parker wasn't staring holes into the back of his head. To be fair, Hardison never noticed the staring, but something should have told him he was getting off too easily. 

"Oh, hey, Parker, gimme an orange soda while you're there," Hardison said, barely looking away from the wall of monitors. Some game was playing; Eliot had already threatened to put all of Hardison's games (and Hardison) through the pub kitchen's industrial blender if he didn't turn down the volume.

"Sure," Parker said, smirking a little. 

Eliot looked up from his book at the tone in Parker's voice. Across the room in the corner, Nate and Sophie paused their conversation and exchanged a look. All four of them watched as Hardison blindly reached for the bottle and took a big gulp. And then spit it out again. 

"Ugh, oh my god, what _is_ that? Parker, what the hell--"

"Revenge!" Parker yelled. "You drenched me with cold water; you deserve it!" 

"It was an _accident_."

Parker scoffed. "Likely story." She leaned down and patted Hardison's shoulder. "Oh, and by the way, have fun figuring out which ten bottles of your stock of orange soda I tampered with." She smiled broadly and sauntered out the front door.

Eliot quickly turned back to his book. Sophie and Nate's soft voices drifted across the room as they picked their conversation back up. 

Hardison dumped the entire bottle down the sink and then spit out several times, making disgusted noises. 

"Don't be such a baby," Eliot said. "It's just a little soda water with carrot juice and beet juice, and a dash of vinegar." 

Hardison gasped. "You! You were in on this?!"

"Be glad I was there; Parker's first idea was to push you down the stairs." 

Hardison shook his head, one hand clutched to his chest. "I can't believe you! I thought you were my friend, man. Friends don't stab each other in the back! Friends don't let their friend's soda get poisoned!"

Eliot rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"Dra-dramatic? You want _dramatic_? I can give you dramatic. Uh-huh. Because this means war." Hardison nodded, pointing at Eliot. "And you, former friend, you are the enemy now. Prepare yourself." 

He gave Eliot a short nod and stalked out. 

Eliot stared after him for a moment, then shrugged and went back to his book. 

 

**Day 4**

Eliot wasn't quite so nonchalant about the whole thing at breakfast the next day. He grabbed two eggs to make himself some scrambled eggs and found them already hardboiled. A quick check revealed that Hardison had gotten to all twelve eggs. 

Eliot cursed. He should have known that Hardison would take the first opportunity at revenge. That would teach him to temporarily store his groceries in the Brew Pub's walk-in fridge – next time he'd just have to brave the traffic jams and run his groceries home instead of taking the easy way out. Still, messing with his food? Would Hardison never learn?

Grumbling under his breath, he put the other ingredients back and grabbed his wallet and keys. After a breakfast out, he walked into the back of the Brew Pub and straight up to Hardison who was sitting at the counter with his laptop. 

"You don't mess with a man's breakfast, Hardison!"

Hardison startled and nearly fell off his chair, but caught himself quickly. He narrowed his eyes at Eliot. "Oh, but his soda is just fine? Is that it?"

Eliot took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. "That was Parker." 

"You helped her!" 

"To keep her from doing something worse," Eliot pointed out. 

"Uh-huh." Hardison sounded decidedly unimpressed as he turned back to his laptop. 

Eliot waited a beat, but Hardison kept quiet. "Don't touch any of my food," he growled. 

He turned around to stalk off, maybe to find a punching bag or a few thugs, and ran smack into Parker who'd come up behind him. She didn't offer an apology and headed straight to the kitchen. 

"Excuse you," Eliot muttered. His hand automatically went to his back pocket, checking that he still had his wallet, and then slid around to his front pocket to feel for his keys. 

"What the hell?" Eliot stared down at his hand. His car keys were still there, but so was a hell of a lot of glitter. Small, sparkly and metallic particles were dusting his keys, his fingers and the inside of his pocket. "PARKER!" 

Parker, bowl of cereal in one hand, a spoon in the other, walked in. "What?"

Eliot shook his hand, a small cloud of glitter raining down on the polished concrete floor. 

"So?" Parker shrugged. "What's it got to do with me?"

"Don't play innocent with me," Eliot growled. "You did this! Do you know how hard it'll be to get all this glitter out of there?" 

Parker rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. "You're no fun at all."

Eliot could feel his teeth grinding together, so he carefully separated his jaws. "I'm sending you the dry-cleaning bill!" 

"Buy yourself a sense of humor while you're out," Parker yelled after him. "You can send me that bill, too!" 

Eliot left the Brew Pub in search for a gym and ended up creating a fake craigslist entry using Hardison's phone number, offering fifty bucks for the best Yoda impression. Sure, Hardison would hack the account and delete it with ease, but he'd probably get a few really annoying phone calls first.

#

In response to that, Hardison hacked into Eliot's cell phone a few hours later and changed the language settings to Hebrew. Eliot, feeling a little smug at Hardison's useless prank, quickly scrolled through his options and changed everything back to English. He ordered a coffee and a muffin and sat down in a corner of the coffee shop he sometimes went to after a long workout.

 _Did you forget that I speak Hebrew?_ he texted Hardison. _Weak, man. Very weak._

Grinning to himself, Eliot sipped his coffee and took a large bite out of his muffin. 

The next moment he froze, hands scrambling for his cell phone as loud moans and groans came from his pocket in rapid succession, one pornographic sound overlapping the other. They rang in Eliot's ears long after he'd already managed to put his cell phone on silent. Around him, the other patrons muttered amongst themselves and shot him reproving looks. One mother went so far as to cover her son's ears while glaring daggers at Eliot. 

A notification – thankfully silent now – popped up to inform him he had 10 new text messages. With a growl, Eliot opened them. 

_I knew_

_that._

_You_

_should_

_have_

_checked_

_the other_

_settings_

_too_

_ex-bro!_

With a snarl, Eliot grabbed his muffin and his coffee and left the coffee shop, already planning his next move. 

 

**Day 6**

Parker sleepily opened one eye, her hand reaching out to pet Bunny, who was sleeping on the pillow next to her. The skylights usually let in the early morning dawn, but today's overcast sky made sure the warehouse was still cast in semi-darkness. 

"Good morning, Bunny," she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes as she sat up. She didn't bother to switch on the overhead lights – it wasn't like she had much furniture she could trip over – and instead opted to stay wrapped up in her blanket. The warehouse was much colder than Hardison's place, but considering the way the pranks had spiraled into an outright prank war over the last few days, Parker hadn't wanted to risk staying over. 

Still cocooned in her blanket, Parker shuffled over to the nearest rack – clothes, not harnesses – and grabbed the first thing she could reach. Only--

"Hmpf?" 

Parker tugged a little harder, but the hanger didn't move. With a disgruntled groan, Parker turned around and slapped her hand against the light switch. The overhead lights came on with a hum and Parker blinked against the sudden brightness. 

The first thing she saw was a pair of scissors on the bedside table. The handles were tied together with a zip-tie. She didn't even own scissors.

Frowning, Parker looked at the clothing racks that surrounded her bed. Every single hanger was zip-tied to the rack. Every single harness, shirt and pants was zip-tied to the hangers. Even her boots were zip-tied together. 

It had to have been Eliot. Hardison didn't have the stealth to do this while she slept. He'd trip over nothing or clang the hangers against the metal rungs of the racks or drop something. 

Enraged, Parker dropped her blanket and started planning.

#

Hardison woke up with a smile on his face. He'd stayed up late planning his next prank and it was going to be _awesome_. Parker and Eliot wouldn't know what hit them.

Satisfied smile still on his face, Hardison threw off his blanket and got to his feet. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he grabbed some jeans and a shirt and opened his bedroom door.

"Huh." 

The doorway was covered by several newspaper pages, obviously glued together. 

Frowning, Hardison dug his smartphone out of his pocket and called up the security feed from the night before. Sure enough, at around 4 am, a shadow that Hardison recognized as Eliot appeared on the staircase, carrying a bucket and a large, rolled-up sheet of newspaper. Hardison fast-forwarded through Eliot dipping a brush into the bucket and then smearing the gloopy glue around the doorjamb. He chuckled a little when Eliot had to get up on his toes to attach the newspaper to the top of the doorframe. He closed the video window when he saw Eliot leave. 

With a shrug, Hardison stepped through the newspaper. It ripped with ease. The glue was still wet enough that Hardison could peel off the newspaper without a problem, getting rid of it all. After a quick wipe-down, the doorjamb was even free from the glue. 

"Weak," Hardison muttered. "So weak."

He pulled his phone out. 

"Is that the best you could come up with?" Hardison crowed when Eliot answered the phone. "My nana coulda thought of a better prank." 

Eliot scoffed. "I had a few other things to do last night."

"Weak excuse. If you keep that up, you'll never win this prank war." 

"You keep telling yourself that." Eliot cleared his throat. "Has Nate said anything to you about a new case? Didn't he say something about a mobster?" 

"Didn't pan out. I guess even most criminals take some time off occasionally."

"It's been two weeks since we had a case." 

"So what? Have you never been on a three-week vacation? Because I have. I spent most of 2003 on vacation." 

"It's just--" Eliot cut himself off with a grunt. "Boring, okay? It's boring." 

"At least you can go to the gym or find some crooks to beat up. What am I gonna do? Hack Homeland Security and then _tell absolutely no-one?_ " 

"Parker's gonna be impossible today if we still don't have a case."

"Uh-huh," Hardison agreed. "Especially after she wakes up to my next prank." 

"Your prank? I pranked Parker, too!"

There was a short pause when they both considered the ramifications of an enraged Parker, out to get them both. 

"Team up?" Hardison asked. "Or blame someone else?" 

"We're not teaming up," Eliot said slowly. "But maybe we should declare a temporary truce – just for today! – so we can evade Parker."

"All right." Hardison nodded. "Yeah, good idea."

#

"We really should do something about this." Sophie cast a concerned glance through the glass wall. Parker was perched on one of the support beams, cleaning under her fingernails with a wicked-looking dagger while glaring down at Eliot and Hardison who didn't seem to realize she was even there.

Parker's blonde hair was streaked with orange in a variety of shades – a clear victim of the old dye-in-the-shampoo-bottle trick. Hardison's work, unless Sophie was very mistaken – and she never was. Which meant that Eliot had to have done something else to incur Parker's wrath. 

Nate rolled his eyes. "It's a prank war, not World War Three."

"It's not good for the team spirit," Sophie argued. "They're taking their boredom and frustration out on each other instead of finding a normal, healthy outlet like a nice robbery." Her face brightened. "Oh, I know! We can have a team outing. There's a traveling exhibition at the Portland Art Museum featuring a few painting that would fetch a nice sum. Added security would give Eliot something to do. The security system wouldn't be much of a challenge for Hardison, but I don't think he'd mind. What do you think? Care to plan a museum heist?" 

Nate sighed. "No, Sophie. We're not robbing a museum just because the kids are bored." 

"The kids?" Sophie muttered. "What about _me_?" 

"Besides, we're the good guys, remember? No museum heists, no bank jobs, no robberies – unless we're helping someone." 

"Fine." Sophie's lips curved in a pout, but Nate didn't look up from his book.

#

Nate spent most of his day immersed in his book. Sophie had left in a huff after he'd shot down her museum heist idea, and the boys were in the kitchen, doing who knew what. Parker – he actually had no idea where Parker had vanished to, but he had no doubt that she was still around.

He was on the last page when he realized that someone was sitting in the chair across from him. There were only two people he knew who could move so unnaturally quiet and sure enough, when Nate looked up, Parker smiled at him. 

"Parker," Nate said carefully. 

"Hello, Nate." 

His eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"Nothing!" Parker protested. "Can't I just come and talk to you?" 

"You can. You usually don't," Nate pointed out, "but you can." 

"Okay. So I was wondering... You're old, right? Old people know stuff. Like… good pranks." 

Nate pinched the bridge of his nose and fought the urge to throw Parker out on her ear. She'd just find more creative ways to get his help if he refused her now. Or she'd prank him, too. 

"You want my advice on how to prank the boys?" 

Parker nodded eagerly. "I asked Sophie, but she huffed and mumbled something about a museum heist. Are we robbing a museum?"

"No!" 

Parker's shoulders slumped. 

"But I'll help you with your pranks." 

Parker's face brightened. "Thank you, Nate!" 

 

**Day 7**

Hardison rolled his eyes when he found a new layer of newspaper pages glued to his doorframe. After a quick fast-forward look through the security tape, he once again tore it down. 

He whistled a little as he made a pot of coffee. He'd been up half the night, setting up a few surprises for Eliot and Parker. 

"Um, Alec?" 

Hardison looked up. "Janice! You're here early." 

Janice gave him a confused look. "But… you texted a bunch of us to come in early because of the delivery." 

Hardison blinked. "The delivery." 

Janice nodded and then nervously ran a hand through her long red hair. "They've unloaded everything, but we're not sure where you want us to put it all."

"Sorry, Janice. I just woke up. Help me jumpstart my memory." Hardison downed the rest of his coffee. "You're here early because of a delivery. What's being delivered?"

"Cabbage. About two tons of it," Janice said. "We're just not sure where to put the crates." 

Hardison groaned and silently cursed Eliot.

#

Eliot went for a run and then did a systematic work out in his home gym, working up a good sweat. He pulled off his shirt and used it to wipe his brow, heading for the bathroom to take a long, hot shower.

It didn't take more than two minutes for his relaxing shower to turn into a complete mess. The hot water turned sticky and brown-ish and started to smell suspiciously like beef bouillon. 

Growling, Eliot shut off the shower and grabbed the showerhead. He unscrewed it and found several partially dissolved bouillon cubes wedged inside. 

Eliot took the parts to the sink to rinse them. It only took a few minutes to clean everything, but the bouillon smell coming off of his skin was turning his stomach. His chest and arms felt sticky and slightly oily, and his head was itching something fierce. He didn't even want to think about the state of his hair right now. 

Parker or Hardison – no matter which one of them was responsible for his bathroom to stink like cheap, watery soup, they'd _both_ pay for it.

#

Parker wondered what she'd find. More zip-ties? More hair dye? Parker didn't really mind the orange on a personal level, but it made people look at her and when people looked at her, Parker felt uncomfortable. For a thief, it was never a good thing to be noticed. If they finally got another case, she'd have to do something about it.

The water in her shower looked normal enough, so Parker got in and washed her hair – with a new bottle of shampoo – five times. The color did seem a little paler afterwards, but still noticeably orange in places. 

Parker made a face at herself in the mirror and squeezed some toothpaste onto her toothbrush. Brushing vigorously, she had to stop herself from laughing. She'd have to snatch one of the employees later to ask about Hardison's face when he found out he was now the proud owner of two tons of cabbage. 

To be honest, it hadn't seemed like a very good prank at first. Parker liked cabbage. It was okay, for a vegetable. But Nate had explained that Hardison would have to deal with a lot of people and jump through a lot of hoops to make them take the cabbage back.

Parker spat out the foamy toothpaste and bent over the sink to rinse her mouth. Her gums were tingling a little. Weird – they'd never done that before. 

Frowning, Parker ran her tongue over her gums and then sucked on her teeth contemplatively. 

Her tongue felt weird. Her teeth felt weird. Her gums felt weird. The insides of her lips were starting to feel kind of weird, too. 

"Wha did dey do to my mouf?" 

Despite the unsettling lack of feeling in her entire mouth region, Parker was strangely fascinated and spent the next ten minutes prodding at herself with her index finger. Clearly they'd put something into her toothpaste. Or fiddled with the toothbrush. Either way, she'd replace both, just to be safe.

#

"I didn't do this, so it had to have been Parker," Eliot said. "Except this isn't really Parker's style. She wouldn't have been able to pull it off without help, which means…"

Eliot and Hardison exchanged a look and then turned towards the corner where Nate and Sophie were sitting. 

"It had to have been Nate," Eliot said with conviction.

At the same time, Hardison blurted, "I knew Sophie was on Parker's side!"

Eliot and Hardison exchanged another glance.

"Come on, man. You know Sophie has a soft spot for Parker."

"Yeah, but can you see Sophie ordering two tons of cabbage for a prank?" 

"Can you see _Nate_ doing that?" 

Eliot shrugged. He could, but that didn't mean Nate was guilty. Didn't mean Sophie was innocent, either. 

"Nevermind." Hardison waved him off. "I'll just get revenge on both of them."

#

"You're gonna pay for this!" Parker said, her eyes darting from Eliot to Hardison and back. Hardison looked slightly confused – probably because her words came out slurred and indistinct due to the numbness of her tongue and lips – but Eliot gave her a triumphant smirk.

"You deserve it," he said. "This makes us even for the glitter!" 

Instead of trying to form any words, Parker simply growled at him and pushed past the boys to find Nate. She needed something better than cabbage next time.

"Have fun with the drooling!" Eliot called after her. 

 

**Day 08**

Hardison groaned when he once again found newspaper covering his doorway. He didn't check the security feed – why bother watching Eliot go through the same routine again? – and ripped straight through the paper. 

This time, however, an avalanche of packing peanuts made Hardison stumble back. He gaped as masses of small white Styrofoam nuggets poured into his bedroom until he was standing knee-deep in them. 

"Son of a--!"

#

"Hi! Excuse me, but are you Eliot?"

Eliot glanced at the young woman dressed in a Japanese school girl costume. "No," he growled. 

"Okay," she said, frowning down at a piece of paper. "My order says you'd say that, but this is you, right?" 

She showed him a picture of him. 

Eliot snatch it from her hand and stuffed it in his pocket. "Look, my friend is playing a prank on me, okay? I'm not interested in whatever it is you sell or--"

"I'm a kiss-o-gram." 

"Look, just go away, all right? Take an extra break or something, Sweetheart." 

"But--"

A young man wearing a pink-and-blue striped shirt stopped in front of them. "Sorry, but are you Eliot? I've got a singing telegram for you." He cleared his throat. "One, two, three--"

"No!" Eliot pointed at the fake schoolgirl. "I don't want a kiss-o-gram or a singing telegram," he added, swinging around to point at the young man. 

The man opened his mouth. 

"And the first one to say one more word to me will get sued for harassment!" 

The man snapped his mouth shut. 

"All right." Eliot straightened his jacket. "I'm leaving." 

Hardison was in so much trouble.

#

Nate blindly reached for a pair of socks, only for his hand to meet a folded up shirt.

Blinking, he frowned down at his dresser. Top right drawer – socks & underwear. Except right now it was full of shirts. The middle left one, usually his drawer for shirts, was full of sweatpants. 

With a sigh, Nate pulled out the bottom left drawer and set it on his bed before moving the sweatpants drawer to its customary bottom left spot. It took five minutes to return every drawer to its rightful place, but five minutes were enough to give him a mild headache. 

He pulled out his phone to warn Sophie that it looked like the prank war had spread out to include them, but the dozens of little baby Jesus pictures that had replaced his contact pictures distracted him. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Nate headed for his kitchen. As he waited for the coffee to brew, Nate secretly he feared that Sophie might have been right to suggest a museum heist. It probably would have caused less damage. 

Taking a sip of hot, strong coffee, he held the mug up to his nose and breathed in the aroma. 

"Well," he said to himself. "No way out but through."

#

The kitchen at the Brew Pub was Eliot's new safe space. The rest of the staff were good at keeping unauthorized people out, which thankfully included anyone who was intent on delivering a message in a colorful and embarrassing way. He paid them back by teaching the cook a few tricks.

"…and that is how you make a perfect soufflé," Eliot said, presenting the finished product with a careful flourish. 

"Wow." Krysztof took the plate from Eliot and looked down at him in awe. "I have never managed a soufflé this good," he said in his heavily accented English. "Looks perfect." 

"Trust me," Eliot said, "you follow my instructions step by step and your next soufflé is gonna look exactly like this." 

Krysztof opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, someone said "hi!" from the general vicinity of the ceiling. Krysztof jumped and then let out a small noise of dismay when the motion bumped his soufflé into collapsing. 

Eliot let out a sharp breath. "Parker! Why are you in the ceiling?!"

"I'm hiding." Parker's voice sounded a little off, like she was upset but trying to hide it. "Sorry about the cake thing." 

"It's a soufflé. Well, it _was_." 

"I didn't mean to destroy it."

Eliot sighed and shooed the kitchen staff away. They were watching the ceiling apprehensively, like they expected Parker to drop down any second and destroy something else. One by one, they went back to their jobs. 

Krysztof shrugged. "Is okay, miss. Now I can practice by making again."

"You do that," Eliot said. He waited until Krysztof had gone back to work before he sat down on the counter. "Why are you hiding?" 

A growl from Parker had several of the kitchen staff look up nervously, but Eliot wasn't impressed. 

"Well?"

"Hardison hired people to follow me around and sing at me. One of them had a harp! One lady tried to hug me!" 

"Yeah, he did the same to me."

"My next prank is gonna have to be _biiiig_." One of the ceiling panels moved and Parker stuck her head out. "Wanna help?"

Eliot grinned.

#

"This is getting out of hand, Nate."

Nate shrugged. "What do you want me to do, Sophie? Send them to their rooms and ground them?"

"I want you to do… _something_!" Sophie dug her cell phone out of her purse and held it up. "Here, look at this!" 

Nate glanced at the screen and had to stifle a laugh. The head of every single person in any picture Sophie's phone had been replaced with Sophie's own head. The effect was hilarious. Of course Nate was smart enough to realize Sophie wouldn't find it hilarious, but he wasn't too successful in hiding his amusement. 

"Oh, yes, very funny. I should have known right away that this sort of thing was on your intellectual level." Sophie gave him a haughty sniff. 

"Sophie, come on," Nate cajoled. "It's a joke. I'm sure Hardison will put it back as soon as this prank war is over."

"I'm not even part of their stupid prank war! Why drag _me_ into it?"

Nate shrugged. "Maybe they want you to loosen up a little. Have some fun." 

"No." Sophie shook her head. "No way am I lowering myself down to this infantile behavior. Oh, no, I'm staying well out of this." 

Nate watched her leave, wondering how successful that plan would be.

#

"Do you have the cans?"

Parker nodded, producing four empty soda cans. 

"Okay. Put them down on the marks and then help me with the bed frame." 

Grinning, Parker set the soda cans down on the marked spots. While she'd been out, Eliot had dismantled Hardison's bed. Together, they lifted the frame so that each leg rested on a soda can. Carefully, they put the slatted frame and the mattress back in before piling on the blankets and pillows. 

Eliot took a step back. "Looks good."

"He's gonna have a mini-heart attack when he sits down and the bed falls," Parker said, an evil grin on her face. "And I'll be watching…" 

"He's gonna notice a camera." 

"Hardison's own design," Parker said, holding up a slim black cube. She put it on the dresser where it sat among a pile of electronic bric-a-brac and computer parts.

"Send me a copy of the video." 

"Sure. Hey, where are you going? We're not half-done yet." 

Eliot raised an inquiring eyebrow. 

Parker pulled out a handful of small disks, maybe an inch and a half in diameter and a dark gray in color. 

"What are they?" 

Parker shrugged. "Prank stuff I got off some nerd website. They make noise at random intervals."

"Are they on a timer? Because I'm thinking four thirty-eight is an excellent time for some random noise."

**Day 09**

It was driving him mad. Every time Hardison thought he'd found the last of those blasted things, another one would let loose with a meow or a door knock or a barely-there whisper or a creepy laugh or a high-pitched beep or… The variation was endless, and the noise was just loud enough that it was impossible to ignore. 

"Okay, that's _it_!" 

Hardison quickly powered down all his electronics. His EMP-canon charged with a quiet whine. Hardison took careful aim and fired until he'd covered the entire room. If that didn't take care of the little noise machines, he'd have to burn the place down.

For a few minutes, Hardison listened in tense silence. Then, satisfied, he put the EMP-canon down and left the room in search for coffee. He really needed it. 

"Whoa! You look like hell," Amy said when he went straight to the coffee machine and filled up the largest mug he could find. 

"Rough night," Hardison muttered. It had started by scaring him half to death. His bed had sacked under his weight when he sat down to take his socks off. After a loud crash and an even louder curse, he'd checked the bed to find soda cans crushed under the bed frame. His money was on Eliot for that one. 

It had taken a few minutes for his heart to slow down enough to contemplate sleep, but he'd lain awake for several hours. And once he'd finally drifted off, he'd been jolted awake by a crying baby (and later, the sound of evil laughter, a door slamming shut repeatedly, the creaking of wooden planks, and so on). 

"Hey, uh, Amy. Do me a favor? If anyone asks for me, I'm not in." 

"Okay." 

"And if Parker – look, just don't let her in the back. I'm busy." 

"…Okay." 

Amy waited until Hardison was gone until she added, quietly, "…but it's not my fault if she climbs into the ceiling again."

#

At some point that morning, Hardison briefly felt that he was going through too much trouble for a prank, but the side of him that knew how to hold a grudge quickly stomped it down. What was more was that he was really enjoying himself.

Sure, he got to go to the limits of his knowledge and skills for their jobs, but there was a different kind of challenge involved in doing a million small things at once. He had seven monitors hooked up to his laptop, and each one was set up for a different prank. 

The first monitor showed a generic computer background, with a small video window open in a corner. That was his Nate monitor. He'd installed remote access software on every computer and device anyone on the team owned. It was nothing sinister – Hardison needed the access mostly because none of the others were hackers. Plugging in a flash drive and starting the auto-install or transferring some files – that was the small stuff that everyone knew how to do. But the more finicky stuff? Like he'd leave Eliot to fumble his way through that. 

Of course, now Hardison could use the remote access for this. 

Nate had been playing online games all morning. Sudoku, mostly. He was on a record-breaking losing streak, courtesy of one Alec Hardison. Every time Nate's attention strayed from the monitor, Hardison changed a subtle thing, like switching a three for an eight in one of the Sudoku squares. Nate hadn't noticed yet, but he was getting more and more annoyed by his inability to solve the puzzles. 

When he wasn't busy screwing with Nate's head, Hardison was keeping an eye on Parker and Eliot. Sophie, on monitor six, was currently at a salon, getting a wellness treatment. It included a hair mask – a fact that Hardison had exploited shamelessly thanks to the short-on-cash high schooler who worked there after school and didn't have much of a problem swapping the hair mask with a mystery bottle of unidentified content. In about forty minutes, when all the gunk and goop Sophie was covered in would be washed off, someone was finally going to lose her cool. Hardison was just glad he was on the other side of town when Sophie saw the mess. 

Parker, on monitor two, was breaking into some office building. She had her gear with her, so Hardison assumed she was going to jump off the roof or something. He didn't really care as long as she stayed away from her warehouse for another hour and forty-one minutes. Monitor three showed Parker's warehouse. It was swarming with men in work boots and tool belts who were busy hanging Parker's furniture from the ceiling beams. Amazing what money could buy.

Monitor four was for Eliot. He was at the gym, lifting weights. 

The last two monitors were for all of Hardison's small projects, like changing around everyone's contact names on their phones (Eliot's various lady friends were now all called "Mom", Parker's contacts were renamed after cereal brands and Sophie's now featured Hardison's own version of the rhyming slang. He hadn't known what to do about Nate's contacts, so he'd just left them all blank.) and ordering three thousand "Hardison is the greatest" stickers on Nate's dime. 

"Okay, Eliot," Hardison muttered, "let's see how you handle this." 

With a few clicks of his mouse, he let the new Grindr profile he'd created for Eliot go live and settled in to watch the show. 

**Day 10**

Parker ended up being really glad that she'd given Hardison a break from being pranked because Hardison's latest prank was _a-ma-ziiiing_. All of her furniture – her bed included – had been hung from the ceiling. 

She'd tested the strength of the ropes and deemed them okay to take the extra weight of a sleeping Parker. It had been like sleeping in a hammock, swaying gently from side to side whenever she shifted – only a lot more comfortable. And getting out of bed in the morning was so much more _fun_ – she'd done a back flip out of her bed and gone straight into her usual morning training routine. 

After her workout, Parker showered and changed into something comfortable before dropping in on Nate. 

Nate only had the unfun kind of cereal (4 different types of wheat and lots of fiber), but free food was free food. Besides, Nate was an early riser and she needed advice _now_ , not in four hours when the rest of the world woke up. 

Nate sighed when he found her sitting in his kitchen, eating his cereal. It wasn't the kind of sigh where Nate told her to come back later, possibly when he was more drunk, so she stayed put as he poured himself a cup of the strong coffee Parker had helpfully brewed and sat down across from her. 

After a long silence, Nate put the cup down. "Eliot or Hardison?" 

"Either. Or better yet: both!"

"All right. Do you have any ideas?"

Parker scrunched up her nose. "I'm not sure what to do about Hardison, but I was thinking... Eliot really loves his car. So what if I steal it and give it to some random stranger or whatever and put a rusty old car in its place?" 

Nate stared at her for a few seconds. Then he got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. Irish, this time. 

"No." 

"But I--"

"No! Parker, if you steal Eliot's car, he's gonna kill someone. Probably the unfortunate soul who gets gifted with Eliot's car and very definitely you. That's not a prank, Parker, that's a crime." 

"So? Hardison hacks stuff to prank us." 

"Yes, but... just trust me. You will not steal Eliot's car."

Parker let out a frustrated breath. "But it's a good idea! I can easily steal it back once Eliot's face is doing that ... thing." She waved a hand at her face and put on a passable expression of Eliot's grumpy "I'mma kill ya" expression. 

"Messing with Eliot's car is not a bad idea, but no permanent damage and no crime." Nate finished his coffee and leaned forward. "What about a new paint job and a few other non-permanent improvements."

Parker nodded reluctantly. Her idea was better, but Nate was probably right about Eliot's reaction. She took out a notepad and started taking notes. Ten minutes later, she had a passable plan for pranking Eliot. While Parker had been completely focused on the car, Nate had mentioned that rearranging Eliot's kitchen would probably make him want to punch someone. It might even make up for the fact that she wouldn't get to boost Eliot's car – when Eliot was done dealing with his car, he'd slide right into the next prank. 

"But what do I do about Hardison?" 

Nate stroked his chin. Parker frowned. Did imitating a Hardison-typical gesture help him think up pranks they could play on Hardison? Thoughtfully, she stroked her own chin. 

"Do you remember when you brought that pastel-colored kitten into the Brew Pub and Hardison pretended to like it?"

Parker nodded. The kitten figurine had been a present from Peggy – now that Parker was in Portland, she and Peggy didn't see each other a lot, so they mainly exchanged emails and the occasional phone call. But on Alice's birthday, Peggy always sent a large package with a present, some cookies and a few other bits and bobs. Parker usually ate the cookies and found creative uses for the gifts. The kitten hadn't really been useful for anything, so she'd brought it to the pub to ask the others what to do with it. 

"Sophie said he pretended to like it because he likes _me_ and he thought that _I_ liked the hideous thing." 

"Exactly. He even offered to display it in the pub, didn't he? Even though he would have hated it." 

"Yeah. Sophie said it was sweet." 

"Uh-huh. So what if you, um, redecorate the Brew Pub?" 

"Oooh." Parker smiled, nodding slowly. "Where do you think I could find the ugliest stuff?"

#

Eliot wasn't too surprised to wake up later than usual. His phone – his usual alarm clock – was nothing but a pile of splintered plastic courtesy of one mighty blow with his hammer. The calls and messages had been coming in since early evening. After the fifth obscene call, Eliot had stopped picking up the phone, but that hadn't stopped the flood of suggestive texts and – Eliot growled at the memory – pictures.

The pictures had really made him want to kill Hardison. Instead, he'd killed his phone. With a hammer. Sophie would have called it a "slight overreaction" in a way that meant she thought he was crazy, but it was clearly the only option left. 

Eliot was a guy. He'd spent a lot of his time in locker rooms – first in school, later in the army. He'd seen a lot of dicks in his life, but this? This was too much. 

Eliot stayed in bed a few minutes longer, trying to empty his mind of all the dick pics, but it wasn't working. Grumbling, Eliot got up and took a shower. Hardison owed him a new phone, and Eliot intended to collect. 

Half an hour later, Eliot walked into his kitchen and almost triggered a trap of some kind. He saw the tripwire before he stepped on it. Parker again, obviously – it frightened him a little how easily she broke into his home without waking him up. 

Crouching down, Eliot ran a finger over the nearly see-through wire. Fishing line. Clever. 

He followed the fishing line to the pantry door and discovered that _clever_ was the least of it. The fishing line connected to just about everything in his pantry that was non-breakable. Tin cans, baskets of dried bundles of herbs, water bottles, plastic and metal bowls – all tied together with the fishing line. If he'd stepped on it, everything would have come crashing down with a mighty noise. 

Eliot spent over an hour following the fishing line from pot to can to bowl to basket, cutting it down piece by piece until he could move in his kitchen again without the danger of bringing half the shelf contents crashing down to the floor. As far as pranks went, this one was decent enough. He would have found it funny if it had happened to someone else – he had to give Parker that. 

Five minutes later Eliot left his house to find Hardison and get a new phone. Two seconds was all he needed to register that his beautiful orange and black Challenger was now neon green. Eliot took two more seconds to change his mind: Parker wasn't funny. Parker was _dead_.

#

Sophie woke up after what was supposed to be a relaxing spa day with a headache and murder in her heart. Her hair still felt like straw – she'd demanded they fix it ('it' being the horrid green streaks in her hair) at the salon before she left, but while her hair color had been restored to its original state, her hair no longer felt sleek and soft. The girl at the salon had been falling all over herself to apologize, saying she didn't know what happened, but Sophie knew. Sophie knew Hardison had been at work.

It was time to end this war, once and for all.

#

Hardison was out when Parker came back from her shopping spree with two duffel bags full of the gaudiest decorations she could find. They would make everyone gag – it was something Parker counted on when she let herself in through the back and started unpacking.

"Um... what is all this?" 

Parker looked up, trying not to look guilty. "Amy! Hi!" 

Amy gave her a suspicious look. "Hi." 

"This is just a little something Hardison asked me to bring," Parker said, trying to find her inner Sophie to make it sound _right_. "You know how he's always talking about redecorating the place? I offered to do it for him and he accepted." 

Amy plucked a dancing robot eggplant from the pile and raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? He wants _this_ in the pub?"

"He really likes eggplant?" 

Amy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm not getting involved in this."

"Hey!" Parker called after her. "Does that mean you're not helping me put this stuff up?"

Parker grabbed the first two employees who didn't escape fast enough and started setting up. The pre-lunch lull meant that there was only an older lady in the pub. She sat at a corner table with a cup of tea and a book and didn't look up when Parker directed her two helpers towards the main area with a ladder and a box full of hideous decorations each. Parker herself grabbed the box with the twinkling lights and started unraveling the cables. Soon, she had strung lights along every wall, draped them along the ceiling beams and turned the area behind the bar into a total eyesore. Parker could only imagine what it would look like with the flashing lights on. 

"No, higher! _Higher!_ " Parker made an impatient 'up' gesture at the man perched atop the ladder, ignoring his dubious expression as he hammered in a few nails for the family of talking fish plaques Parker had bought. They clashed nicely with the black-and-white modern art pieces she'd brought to decorate the tables. 

Giggling, Parker dug the last items out of her bags.

#

"What's going on here?"

Amy jumped. "Oh, Sophie! I didn't see you there! Parker is... decorating."

Sophie gave a derisive snort. "How very diplomatic of you." 

Amy shrugged. "She's the boss's girlfriend." 

Sophie nodded. "Speaking of which... have you seen Hardison? I'm here to talk to him." 

"He's out." Amy gestured to the pub where Parker was plugging in the last of her cables. "I'm guessing that's why Parker is doing this _now_."

Sophie hummed in agreement. 

"This is not going to end well," Amy said, sighing deeply. "And guess who will end up having to take all of this down again..."

Sophie tilted her head, watching Amy from the corner of her eyes. "I suppose this prank war hasn't been much fun for you, has it?" 

Amy snorted. "Fun? First I had to deal with two tons of cabbage that nobody wanted to take back, then there was the invasion by singing, kissing or otherwise annoying messengers and the fact that people keep hiding in our kitchens. Do you know what happens when people hide from these pranks in the kitchen? The pranks follow them there!" 

"Hmm. Doesn't seem fair that all of these pranks made things difficult for you. And now this." 

"Exactly. Now this. God knows how this is going to end." Amy crossed her arms over her chest. Parker might have been the boss's girlfriend, but she wasn't her employer and Hardison probably hadn't given his okay to turn the Brew Pub into Kitsch-o-Rama in his absence. Just as she decided she had to do _something_ about this whole mess, sparks flew and the entire building fell dark. 

There was enough mid-day light coming in through the windows to see Parker's guilty expression. "Uh-oh."

In front of Parker, the tangle of cables erupted in flames. 

"Double uh-oh," Parker said. "Anybody got a fire extinguisher?"

Of course that was when the fire alarm started blaring and the sprinklers started up. 

 

**Day 12**

"All right," Amy said decisively, her hands on her hips, "this is an intervention. This prank war has gone on long enough. It's time to end it." She held up a finger when Parker opened her mouth. "Yes, I know that the fire and the sprinklers and the fire department coming here was an accident. But the pranks are escalating and it stops. Now." 

Amy clapped her hands. The doors to the kitchen opened and five of their waiters stepped out, each carrying a dish. Hardison and Parker had burgers and fries, Nate had a nice roast beef, Eliot a juicy steak and Sophie the fish. 

"Enjoy your meal, think about what you've done, and then talk. Resolve this conflict or whatever it was that led to this prank war." 

Amy was almost at the door when she heard gagging behind her. Smirking a little, she turned back to the table. The five had disgust written on their faces. Eliot, in particular, looked like his food had betrayed him. Which, Amy mused, it kind of had, considering she'd told the cook to put sugar into everything. Sugary steak – perhaps not as bad as the sugary fish or the sugary burgers, but probably worse than the sugary roast beef.

"Oh, and one more thing," she said, giving each of them a hard stare. "If you don't stop, you'll have to suffer the consequences." Amy let her gaze linger on Sophie for a moment, her lips twitching up when Sophie gave her a conspiratorial wink. The original idea of putting a stop to this prank war by having an outside threat – Amy – take over and end it had been Sophie's, but the implementation was pure Amy. 

Krysztof looked up when she came back into the kitchen. "Well? Will they stop?"

Amy smiled. "I think our chances are good that this prank war is finally over."

Krysztof sighed in relief. "Thank god. Maybe now I can make soufflé without prank accidentally destroying it."

 

**Epilogue – Day 12**

"Well, I for one am glad it's over," Sophie said. She kicked her shoes off and put her feet up on the coffee table, nudging a few empty take-out cartons to the side. "I've had enough of pranks for a while." 

Hardison slung his arm around Parker's shoulders. "Pranks are exhausting." 

"I think they're fun." 

Sophie gave Parker a stern look. "In moderation, Parker. Only in moderation."

Parker gave her a rueful look. "Okay, yes. Maybe that last one was a bit too much, although..." She trailed off, looking pensive. "Hey, what if someone – hypothetically – set up a prank a while ago and the trap hasn't sprung yet? Hypothetically speaking, that wouldn't be my--anyone's fault, right? It wouldn't start another prank war, would it?"

Hardison stepped back from Parker and gave her a suspicious look. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Parker shrugged. "It's a hypothetical question. Hypothetical means--"

"I know what it means." Hardison crossed his arms in front of his chest. "But I also know you, so: what did you do?"

Parker peered up at him and scrunched up her nose. "Not a thing," she eventually said. "Especially not in the bedroom." 

Hardison gave her a betrayed look and stalked off in a huff. 

Parker watched him leave and then turned around, smiling slightly.

Eliot walked up to her and bumped her shoulder. "Did you really…?" 

Parker's smile widened. "Nah."

"You know he's gonna spend all night searching for nothing, right?" 

Parker shrugged, looking smug. 

Eliot laughed. "Think you can still access that spy-cam?"

 

(They told Hardison that there was nothing hidden in his bedroom …eventually.)


End file.
